The Back Burner
by mangaluva
Summary: Other serial story ideas I have flitting around my brain. Please comment if you like one a lot, I still haven't decided which to do next. I'll add and remove prologues as I get new ideas or start publishing them. None'll be as long as WPBIO, I hope ;
1. Space Case

_**Working Title:**_ Space Case

_**Themes: **_Star Wars crossover, AU

_**Notes**_: It's very AU, the Star Wars stuff being mostly canon, the Detective Conan stuff being pretty much original with nods to the original storyline. ShinRan, AoKai, HeiKazu, and HakAko. Because I'm a geek at heart.

"_Initiate Order 66._"

"It shall be done, my lord."

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Toichi froze as his communicator _beeped_, announcing a message from another Jedi. It was most likely just troop directions, but the messages never ceased to make his heart jump. Luckily, his face was just as unreadable as his mind, so no other Jedi had ever suspected that he had broken one of the Order's most important laws...

"Toichi Kuroba," he said, opening up the communicator. It was an audio-only message from Ba Tik, who was the commander of a unit on a nearby planet. The message, however, was even more frightening than one stating that Minami had been found...

"_Toichi, something's wrong with the clones! Get away from them now! They're-"_ but there was no more to the message than a blast of gunfire. Toichi's senses instantly flared up, fast enough for him to dodge a similar volley of blaster fire- _from his own troops_.

Toichi did the only thing he could do. He _ran_.

"_What the hell's going on?!_" he thought, panting as he ran. "_Clones _can't_ attack their superior officers... unless ordered to by an even _more_ superior officer... but the Jedi Council ordered the troops never to harm a Jedi, and the only higher authority than them is... the Supreme Chancellor._"

Had something happened in Coruscant? What had become of Palpatine? Had he been killed and replaced by someone who disliked the Jedi? Or had the Council's greatest fears come true... was a _Sith..._

He dodged easily through the thick undergrowth of the jungle planet, heading for a secret escape pod that he'd planted. It would take him to Minami, hiding in Naboo, originally with the intent that if the Council found out about them, he and Minami could escape to the Outer Rim. It would be difficult for the Jedi to find them there... and even more difficult for anyone without any Force capabilities. Because if the clones were going berserk like this all across the Galaxy, then Toichi was damn sure that there wouldn't be a lot of _them_ left, and what there was would have bigger priorities than tracking down a renegade living peacefully with his illegitimate family.

He thought of Minami, of her kindness and understanding, of the powerful life that he had sensed growing within her. He _had_ to get back to them. He _had to..._

He flicked his fingers, using the Force to open the door of the pod. He lunged forwards...

Blaster shots burned into his back. He collapsed, gasping in pain. His vision was fading fast. He threw his lightsaber forward, into the pod. It smashed into the manual control pad, causing the pod to revert to automatic only. And the automatic instructions were: fly to Naboo.

Toichi faintly saw it fly into the sky, taking his lightsaber and what little money and information that he had to his lover. Another round of blaster fire hit him. The last thing he saw was Minami's face, and the face of their child of which he had so often dreamed...

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Twenty years later, a shadowy figure slipped out of the vault in the Imperial Centre of Coruscant, clutching its prize with a triumphant smile. It slipped through the shadows like a phantom, heading down to the ballroom below where a party was in full swing. Straightening his suit and making a spirited if futile attempt to slick back his hair, he strode out into the ballroom as if he had been there all along.

He mingled with the crowd, smiling and flesh-pressing and pretending to be interested, just like everyone else there, and inwardly dancing at his own sheer jamminess. It wasn't just that he was crashing a party in the middle of Imperial Centre. It wasn't just that he'd _stolen_ from the heart of Imperial Centre unnoticed, though that was certainly something to be proud of. It had probably helped that he hadn't _told_ them that he was coming, of course. No, he had, unannounced, stolen some of the most valuable information in the Empire, stored just a floor above the party in honour of Ginzo Nakamori, and specifically the special Imperial Task Unit that had been formed just to catch- well, _him_. If only they knew that he was among them, and had just stolen from right under their noses. Once he was alone in his old starfighter, he'd laugh for hours. For now, however, he probably ought not to stress the boundaries of his already strained luck. He passed Nakamori himself, talking to a blond young man who served under him- one of those sickeningly Aryan officers which the Empire adored and tended to promote fast- and headed out to a balcony.

He was very surprised to see someone standing out there already. It was a young woman, breathing deeply, a little flushed- she must have drunk a little much. He leaned against the balcony, loosening his tie as if he, too, were getting some air. She glanced over at him suspiciously. He was struck by the _intensity_ in her sparkling blue eyes, undulled by alcohol. Her long brown hair was straggling out of its decorative bun a little- he got the impression that she might have as hard a time taming her hair as he did sometimes.

He was next struck by how _beautiful_ she was.

"I don't think I've met _you_ yet," she commented, "which is a surprise since I'm sure my father had paraded me to every man in the party already- especially Lieutenant Hakuba. Aoko Nakamori," she said, holding out her hand for him to shake. He took it and kissed it, a custom that she was clearly unused to if the shade of red she went was any indication. "_Damn, stop acting like such an offworlder, baka..._"

"Pleased to meet you," he said. "I'm afraid that I arrived a little late. Call me Arsene Lupin. You must be Captain Nakamori's daughter."

"Yep," she sighed, dropping the formality as she leaned against the railing with a sigh. "Pardon me if I drop the formalities, but it takes a _lot_ of alcohol to make a conversation with the Lieutenant bearable, and I think the hangover's coming on before the inebriation ended."

"I'm not sure if it's acceptable for a gentleman to be alone with a heavily inebriated lady," He chuckled. He leaned closer to her, inexplicably drawn by this girl. He reached out, touching a brooch on her dress adorned with the Imperial symbol. "Such an ugly thing for such a pretty girl to wear," he murmured. She stared at him oddly.

"This...?" she glanced down at the brooch. He felt his starfighter drawing closer, his special cloaking programs keeping it from being noticed by the Imperial radars. He was quite fond of the old Jedi starfighter, a broken-down thing that he had bought for almost nothing since the junk trader was certain that it was cursed. He'd almost built the thing from scratch, it was so smashed. It wasn't hard to guess what had happened to the pilot. His mother had told him stories of the terrible truth of the Jedi purges, something which in Imperial history was described as the destruction of a dangerous cult which had attempted to take over the universe. In reality, it had been a cold, merciless genocide.

The bit that he _really_ liked about the starfighter, however, was that it could be activated and controlled with the Force. It was designed for Jedi use, after all...

He glanced over the railing, sensing the presence of the fighter below. Something _clicked_ behind him.

"Doors closed an hour ago when all of the guests arrived," Aoko's voice said matter-of-factly. "And Arsene Lupin is a rather obscure fictional thief. Not obscure enough for me to miss the reference... number 1412."

"Brains _and_ beauty," Kaito chuckled, glancing at the blaster levelled at his head.

"Besides, the only person who would _dare_ insult the Emperor in the very heart of the Imperial Centre," she said, fingering her brooch with her free hand, "would be someone who already intended to leave... unconventionally." People within the hall had noticed Aoko with her blaster raised and were pointing and staring. Kaito smirked.

"Too bad we're not free to use those brains," he said softly. "Well... give the Emperor my thanks for the party favours..." Aoko fired. It was only a stunner shot, but it would have disabled him for a dangerously long time if he hadn't dextrously dodged. He clicked his fingers, and her blaster flew from her hand, pulled by some unseen force. He vaulted over the barrier, flipping up the skirt of her ball gown as he went.

"Blue," he chuckled. "How appropriate."

"_You-"_ she screeched, but Kaito had already landed in his fighter and was zooming away.

_Which hyperspace coordinates do you need, master?_ The writing scrolled across the screen as the onboard computer translated the messages coming from his Astromech droid, G1-K0.

"Somewhere in the outer rim... surprise me, Jii," Kaito said. "I'm going to need to be well out of the Empire's reach for a while."

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"Wow, this is delicious!" The little boy said happily, diving into the enticingly-scented bowl. "_Way_ better than _your_ cooking, niichan..."

"Spare me," the young man muttered, handing over a few coins to the woman behind the stall. "I guess I'll have a bowl too."

"Here you go," the girl said, spooning some food out and handing the bowl to him. He glanced at her, chewing on a piece of meat, then his eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing into his dark fringe.

"This is _womprat_?" he said in surprise, raising another piece of meat. "Wow, you _are_ good... I had no idea womprat could taste this good..." The girl went bright red.

"H-how'd you know it was womprat?" she asked nervously. He glanced behind her.

"I just spotted it out of the corner of my eye," he said. "Womprat bones buried in the sand behind your little hut here... If you'd just killed them as vermin getting into the hut, you wouldn't have stripped the meat from them, and the heat and dryness of the sand would have mummified them, not stripped them to the bone..."

"Wow," she said. "Um... so...?"

He took a big bite, smiling at her. "Hey, I'm not complaining. It's delicious. I know most people see 'em as vermin, but who cares if it tastes this good?" she smiled back with a flush.

"Even _vermin_ are more edible than the stuff _you_ make..." his little brother muttered.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Conan," his big brother said.

"So with a mind like that, I guess you're not your ordinary droid trader, are you?" the girl said curiously. "Mr...?"

"Call me Shinichi," he said with a friendly smile. "Miss...?"

"Ran," she replied. "So come on. I'm not a gossip. What're you _really_ here for?" he glanced around, but her stall was right at the edge of town, right by the desert edge. Most people didn't stop this far out.

"I'm looking for Big Wan," he said, leaning over. "I need to... talk to him. I'm just not so sure that he'll want to talk to me..." Now it was Ran's turn to raise her eyebrows.

"Are you a _bounty hunter?_" she breathed.

"How'd you know?" Shinichi asked quietly. She smiled humourlessly.

"The only people interested in Wan lately are the ones after the bounty," she said. "They don't tend to come back."

"I think I will," he said. "I'm a very persuasive person."

"You won't-"

"Hey, look, look!"

Shinichi glanced over as Ran whirled around. Three children of about Conan's age had appeared in the doorway behind her, peering at Shinichi and Conan. There was a little girl with a wilted flower in her hair (Shinichi wondered where on Tatooine she had found it), a tall skinny boy and a surprisingly large boy. Conan glanced up from his empty bowl and saw them, then waved. "Wow, it's you guys!"

"You _know_ each other?" Shinichi and Ran said in unison. The four children looked suddenly abashed.

"Ummm..." Conan said. "Well, last night, when you left, I got kind of bored..."

"We were, umm, going somewhere," the little girl said. "We'd promised to meet someone and we kind of ran into him..."

"You snuck out of the ship while I was out scanning the bars?" Shinichi said angrily.

"Who were you going to meet?" Ran said sternly.

"I didn't go far, or for long!" Conan insisted. "I was with them a lot of the time so I wasn't on my own..."

"She's a friend of ours," the tall boy said. "But she's a slave so the only time she gets to play is late at night, when she's supposed to be in bed, but she doesn't sleep a lot anyway she says so she sneaks out..."

"Do _not_ leave the ship without me, _especially_ in Mos Eisley!" Shinichi said. "Do you understand? You're only ten!"

"You can't sneak out at night, even to play with your friend!" Ran said. "If her owner catches her sneaking out, she'll be in big trouble and so will you!"

"But it's lonely sitting in there on my own..." Conan complained.

"But her owner Wan's really mean to her!" the fat boy complained. "She oughta at least have some friends..."

"That's no... wait," Shinichi said, switching his attention from berating his little brother to the three strange children. "Did you just say _Wan_?"

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^Fetch the bounty hunter's money^, Jabba said, waving a hand at his Twi'lek assistant. The victim cowered over the Rancor pit, wondering at what moment Jabba would open it and drop him to a horrible death. Heiji glanced around the dingy throne room, wrinkling his nose at the smell of Hutt. He caught the eye of the slavegirl chained to the podium. She met him with a fierce, rebellious glare.

"_A human girl?_" he thought curiously. "_Thought it was Twi'lek girls that got the Hutts' rocks off... eh, whatever. I'm outta here soon as I get my cash."_

^Do join us in a party before you go^, Jabba said as the servant pressed a bag of coins into Heiji's hands. ^After all, you caught this thieving bag of slime. We ought to honour you.^

"Sorry, but I got other hunts ta get back to," Heiji said. The slavegirl looked surprised, and there was some murmuring among the lackeys.

"If Jabba invites you to be the guest of honour, then _you will be honoured_," the servant hissed. Heiji rolled his eyes. "_Oh, _that_ kinda guest of honour..._"

"No offence, yer slugship, but I gotta be goin'," he said, heading for the door. A couple of guards blocked him. "Ya gonna move or am I gonna move ya?"

^Are you threatening me?^ Jabba demanded. ^Perhaps you ought to be taught some respect.^

"Perhaps you oughta know when not ta mess," Heiji said, drawing his vibro-sword and igniting the laserblade. The weapon was something that he'd built himself, based on the old lightsabres that Jedi used to use, but with a normal laser instead of that weird force-sensitive thing. It wouldn't deflect laser blasts, but it could chop a hand off no problem- as he demonstrated on the first guard to charge him. He dodged swipes from the next couple of guards, trying to make his way to the door across the dancefloor. Jabba suddenly chuckled.

"No!" the slavegirl cried. "Yer right over the-"

"_Rancor Pit,_" Heiji thought as the ground dropped away beneath him. "_Shit._" He flung out his hand, reaching for something, and felt a jerk of surprise as two small hands closed over his wrist and pulled him into the air. He leaned forwards as his feet his ground, turning in time to see the slavegirl, set off-balance, tumble sideways into the pit. He could already hear the screaming of the bounty as the Rancor tore into him. "Dammit!"

He grabbed the chain, feeling a little guilty as her jerked her out by the neck. She choked a little, then recovered and flipped another guard into the Rancor Pit. Heiji shot her chain off before the weight of it dragged her back into the pit, running for the door, and she followed.

"This way!" she hissed, grabbing his arm and jerking him down a side corridor. "There's less guards."

"Why're ya followin' me?" Heiji asked.

"I ain't goin' back _there_, thank you," she said, leading him down another corridor. "Jabba might stink, but he's a right hygiene god compared ta that damn pet of his."

"Geez... oi, Otaki!" he called into his com, stopping at a fairly large window. "Just track me an' bring the speeder round here, alright?"

"Otaki?" the girl asked, stopping next to him and glancing backwards nervously.

"0T-K1," Heiji said, "Astromech. Useful things. I just pronounce it Otaki fer short." He climbed up onto the window ledge, glancing down, then jumped out, landing in the pilot seat of the rented landspeeder. He jumped when the girl landed lightly next to him a second later. "What th' hell?"

"I repeat: not going back there," she said. "Ya can just dump me at the next spaceport or whatever. First, shouldn't ya be gettin' the hell outta here?" Her point was illustrated when several blasters started firing out of the windows.

"Point taken," Heiji said, speeding away. "Just dump ya? Ain't Jabba gonna be lookin' fer ya?"

"Not likely," the girl snorted. "He'll just buy another Twi'lek girl or something. I ain't got a tracker in me, thankfully. Thanks fer saving my ass, by the way."

"No problem, ya saved me from that Rancor," Heiji said. "We're square."

"So yer the great bounty hunter Heiji Hattori?" the girl said curiously. "Yer kinda young, aint'cha?"

"I'm twenty, that's plenty ta track cheap scumbags," Heiji snorted. "So who're you?"

"Kazuha Toyama," the girl said. "Cantina waitress until my boss started owin' Jabba money. I ain't going back ta work _there_, that's fer sure..."

"I'll drop ya on another planet or somethin'," Heiji said as they drew nearer to a spaceport. "'Cause I'm gettin' the hell offa this one. And the first thing ya gotta do..." he glanced at her, his already dark skin going a little darker, and tossed his poncho at her, "is get some real clothes."

Kazuha flushed and pulled the poncho over the skimpy dancing outfit.

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The denizens of the bar glared at the young officer who strode up to the bar in full uniform. Once upon a time, the older ones remembered, such pomp would be the recipe for an ass-beating, but these days doing so got the bar blown up by the Empire. The barman waved his hand at a haze of deathstick smoke in the corner, and the officer approached a little more cautiously.

"Call it."

"Full house, darlings."

"Dammit... how the hell do you do that?"

"Just pay up," the young woman said, smiling seductively. The gamblers obediently shoved piles of credits over.

"Akako Koizumi?" the blond officer asked as he approached.

"Who wants to know, handsome?" she asked, taking a pull from her deathstick. Her long purple hair draped lazily over her as she leaned back, covering more skin than her skimpy black dress did. "Well, well... a visit from one of the Empire's finest? I'm honoured."

"Lieutenant Saguru Hakuba," the young man said stiffly. "I have several questions for you regarding Intergalactic Special Fugitive 1412."

"Well, I'm not answering any questions about him, darling," Akako said, lazily waving a hand at him. "Now go home and forget about that little thief, all right?"

Saguru narrowed his eyes on her. "I don't think so."

She frowned, looking confused. She waved her hand again. "You _will_ leave me alone now."

"Not a chance," Saguru said, sitting down.

"Hey, are you disrespectin' lady Akako?" one of the men, a particularly ugly Besalisk, growled.

"It's all right, Dottor," Akako purred. The creature instantly settled down. "Very interesting. Such a strong will. Darlings, I will talk to this young man on my own." The others instantly stood and left.

"Are you controlling them somehow?" Saguru demanded.

"I only exert the natural influence that any beautiful lady holds," she said, her voice low and caressing. Saguru felt that she was lying, and watched her hand, which waved whenever she spoke. It seemed to be just to stir the deathstick smoke, but he felt like it had something to do with her control. "It does not seem to work on you, however. You must have a powerful mind, young one."

"Young I may be, but you can hardly be any older," he snorted.

"So true," she admitted. "A child born of the end of the great Clone Wars... rather like you and your darling International Fugitive. Perhaps that is why both of you can resist me..."

"So it's true that you know him," Saguru said, leaning over the table to glare at her. "Where is he?"

"Now how could I know a thing like that?" Akako said, taking a pull of her deathstick. "He comes and he goes, darling, whenever he pleases. You cannot tie him down any more than you could cage the stars."

"Have you _any_ useful information at all?" Saguru said, holding up a _very_ fat pouch of credits. Akako stared at the bag contemplatively.

"Ahh, the influence of men," she said lightly. "Put it away, darling, before the cheap gentlemen at the bar see it and decide to lighten you of it. Go home, Lieutenant. I do not betray my most _precious_ darling. Dottor? Que-sa? Chiro? Would you dears like another hand? I'm sure you must have a _little_ money left..."

"Move it, brass," Dottor rumbled. Saguru moved. He was _big_. He left quickly, disinterested in drawing more attention, but he did glance back at Akako as she waved a languid hand goodbye.


	2. Forgotten But Unforgiven

_**Working Title:**_ Forgotten But Unforgiven

_**Themes: **_loss, hurt/comfort, hyper-angst

_**Notes**_: Hyper-angsty scenario 1. Originally this and "What Will Remain" were going to be one fic, but I just thought, "nahh, trying to do too much, it'll end up as long as WPBIO..." Primarily Shinichi x Ran.

_The child was lying in the seemingly oversized bed, panting desperately, white hospital sheets soaked dark with sweat. He'd been like this for days, if time meant anything to him anymore- quiet, unconscious sweating interrupted when the sedatives wore off and he awoke to fever dreams, vivid and frightening if the screaming was any indication, so much louder than seemed possible from such a small child._

_Ran didn't seem to have left his side the entire time. Pale, drawn, clothes rumpled as if she hadn't changed them in days, hair limp and greasy for want of a proper shower, she probably hadn't left him since the fever started. The doctors seemed afraid to drive her away._

_Heiji stared in some shock at the great detective, reduced to a frightened, horribly ill child. He'd seen Kudo last about four months back- he'd had a nasty cough, sure, he'd been wearing a mask the whole time, but he'd insisted that it was nothing more. He _did_ seem pretty prone to bad colds, so Heiji had written it off as nothing. But it hadn't been. It had gotten worse._

_And now this._

_Suddenly, his breathing became harsher, shallow gasps, his little hands fisting in pain as one of the monitors starting beeping frantically. Ran shot up in shock._

"_I'm getting a doctor! Stay with him!" She demanded, a little hysterically, running from the room. Heiji knelt down by the bed, almost refusing to comprehend the information from the heart monitor- but Heiji wanted to be a cop, he knew all about physiology, and he knew a heart attack when he saw one._

"_Hang on, Kudo!" he growled. "Dammit, ya can't let 'em get ya now! Don't ya _dare_ give up!"_

_Kudo's hand suddenly gripped Heiji's wrist, painfully tight, and his eyes flashed open to pin Heiji with a glare of piercing clarity- more clarity than he'd had since the fever began, more, perhaps, than he'd had in his life. It was the clarity Heiji had seen mercifully few times. It was the clarity of the dying._

"_Ha... tori..." he gasped, speaking clearly a struggle._

"_Don't talk, just hang in," Heiji said. Kudo only gripped his arm tighter._

"_Under... real bed... letters..." he said, staring Heiji straight in the eye. "Addressed... please... give..."_

"_I won't hafta if ya just _hang on_!" Heiji yelled desperately. Kudo's eyes were closing._

"_Tell... Ran... so sorry..." he murmured, his grip growing limp._

_Doctors flooded the room._

Heiji gasped, jerking bolt upright as he awoke, coated in sweat. He put his head in his hands as he composed himself, trying to slow his breathing.

"Heiji?"

That had been a _decade_ ago, dammit. So why did that look still haunt his nightmares?

"Heiji? Heiji, are ya all right? Talk ta me!"

...Was it because he'd never delivered the letters? But...

"_Heiji_!" Heiji pulled his head out of his hands as Kazuha shook his shoulders violently. He looked up into her worried eyes.

"Heiji, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Nightmare? What about?"

"It was... kinda an old case," Heiji hedged. Kazuha hugged his shoulders sympathetically. It wasn't _entirely_ a lie. He'd seen some pretty nasty things over the years as a homicide detective, and while normally he could lock them away and forget about them, some nights, it seemed, every skeleton spilled out of the closet, piles of bodies...

But this was different. This was the only lie he'd ever told to Kazuha. The only secret he'd ever kept.

The only case he'd never closed.

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Sometimes, a person just has to get away from it all. For Koichi, that meant coming here.

It was sort of like his den; his mother didn't know that he occasionally stole the keys from the back of her dresser drawer and came here. He didn't really want her to know. He knew why she was reluctant to even go near the huge western-style mansion that had been left in her custody; too many dark memories. Still, it irked him that she was afraid to come. It was like she was running away. His mother was fearless, tracking down criminals and murderers day after day and busting their butts without breaking a sweat...

But she was afraid of this house.

He glanced around. The road was empty. He unlocked the gate and closed it behind him, shuffling his feet a little as he wandered up the overgrown driveway. It was always a little exciting, coming here, like a ghost house; but it was sad for the same reason. He knew who the ghosts were.

As long as he got home by six, nobody would know that he'd been here. His mother was on shift this afternoon and would be back in the evening, so he was supposed to be going to his grandparent's until she was back, but he'd called and told them that he was playing with friends so they wouldn't worry.

"_I'm nine anyway,_" he thought stubbornly as he unlocked the creaking front doors and entered the dim hallway. "_I should be able to be home alone for a couple of hours._"

He didn't have many friends, anyway. He'd skipped a grade last year, his teacher finally sick of remonstrating him for sleeping in class only to be presented with whatever task she had given them, complete and correct. Being in fifth grade was helping to satiate his hungry little mind, but it also distanced himself from those his age; his former classmates seemed suddenly distant from him. And the ten-and-eleven-year-olds that he now mingled with looked down on him for being younger. He was small for his age anyway, so being with kids up to a year and a half older than him would be a problem if he wasn't strong and fast as well as small. There'd been one fight, when he'd first moved up. The boy had been a year older, a head and a half taller than Koichi and twice the bulk. A few minutes and some mixed karate and street fighting later, the bigger boy had been lying on the asphalt in tears. So now his classmates, while ready to tease him, were too scared to allow it to escalate into physical violence. In his head he knew that was a good thing, but sometimes, he'd love to vent his frustration on the stuck-ups pricks. And they weren't his only source of frustration.

He made it through the dark corridors by memory, heading for one old bedroom. He often sat here to puzzle over things, almost always ending up by wondering what had happened to the room's occupant. He always ended up thinking the same thoughts, but he still liked to think about it. It seemed to be an unsolvable mystery, an uncrackable enigma- something Koichi loved, because then when you _did_ solve it, it was even more satisfying.

He flicked on the little camping lamp that he'd left in the middle of the floor. The electricity to the house had been cut off long ago, after it had lost its last full-time occupant, so he had saved up and bought the lamp. He always left it here because no-one else ever came, and anyway he couldn't take it home because his mother would want to know why he needed it. Koichi was inquisitive and investigative, and while his mother always answered his questions she often seemed to be trying to curb his deep, overriding curiosity. He never said it, but he knew why she did it. She didn't want him to stick his nose into something he shouldn't and "vanish". That was what the world and their dog assumed had happened to his father. No body was ever found, no- but neither was anything else. He simply vanished off of the face of the earth. And that made Koichi wonder.

The room looked the same as it always had- Koichi never moved or even touched anything, like someone preserving a crime scene. He'd dug around in the wardrobe and such, two years ago when he'd first snuck in, but he'd put everything back afterwards. There wasn't much to see anyway. Clothes, of course, a high school uniform like his mother's old one only with trousers rather than a skirt, sports strips, a jumble of different kinds of shoes and a couple of footballs at the bottom of the wardrobe. The only thing not clothes was the wallet, hidden at the back of the top drawer; it seemed like a temporary hiding place, like where you hid something if you were just hiding it for a little while and intended to come back to it.

That made Koichi wonder. His father had supposedly left over two years before he disappeared for good, but if he'd left Tokyo, he would have taken his wallet, surely? Or had he been back in Tokyo when... _whatever_ had happened? It still had a school ID, and a credit card, and even some bills in it. It was actually a lot of money, several month's worth of Koichi's pocket money, but he'd never been tempted to take it.

His father's inconclusive end always made him wonder, and he had the feeling- though maybe it was just a faint wish, a desperate hope- that he was still alive somehow, and had amnesia, or was lying unidentified in a coma somewhere, or something. It made Koichi hope that the man might turn up someday, and then Koichi could finally meet him and his mother's periodic, violent depression would disappear. Koichi knew it was foolish; even if his father _did_ turn up on their doorstep tonight, it wouldn't suddenly make his mother happy again. Ten years of _nothing_ lay between them; he could hardly expect his mother to forgive his father for leaving her alone, for leaving her to raise Koichi alone, for causing her so many years of grief. Even when she was happy, there was that little sadness in her eyes, and always had been. And then there were those nights when she never went to bed, or if she did she got up again soon; Koichi often woke up in the middle of the night, even though he was no longer a baby, and some nights before he fell asleep again he would peek through the door and see her sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee, staring at nothing.

Besides, she _was_ happier lately, and that was because she had someone else now. He loved her and cared for her, and he was friendly to Koichi though Koichi couldn't help bearing an irrational hostility to the man and he felt like the guy also felt somewhat nervous around Koichi. Well, who _wouldn't_ feel nervous around his fiancée's- let's not beat around the bush here- _baggage_, the legacy of the happiest time of her life that so quickly turned into the most painful?

Koichi was only nine, but he was sharp- almost creepily sharp, he'd heard adults remark not as quietly as they could have been. Just like his father.

The desk calendar, still twelve years out of date and yellowing. Old worksheets on the desk, a half-finished essay, a completed maths assignment, untouched physics questions, also lay yellow and flat, an old book bag resting next to them. There was a book with a bookmark lying about three-quarters of the way through on the bedside table. All signs of a life hurriedly and perhaps unexpectedly dropped.

Kudo Shinichi was almost certainly dead. But in Mori Koichi's mind, the lack of a body and the strangeness that had followed his father's every move for two years beforehand made him wonder. His detective instincts, inherited from his father and both grandfathers, told him that Kudo Shinichi was still alive, and that there was one hell of a case behind it all.


	3. What Will Remain

_**Working Title:**_ What Will Remain

_**Themes: **_loss, hurt/comfort, hyper-angst

_**Notes**_: Hyper-angsty scenario 2. Originally this and "Forgotten But Unforgiven" were going to be one fic, but I just thought, "nahh, trying to do too much, it'll end up as long as WPBIO..." Primarily Kaito x Aoko. Minori means "truth, honesty".

_She couldn't take this. She just couldn't._

_For so long, she'd sat there alone, the TV babbling vacuously in the background. Heist gone bad. Nakamori-keibu dead._

_Kid has killed._

_And now... he stood before her, also trying to talk, but she couldn't hear, she couldn't listen. She couldn't bear to hear any more lies. She couldn't trust him anymore. She couldn't trust _anybody_ anymore._

_Her eyes swam as she stared at the gun on the countertop. It was an old-fashioned revolver. Her father had carried it for twenty years._

_Now he could never hold it again, never turn the air blue as he ran after a phantom again._

_Because of _him.

_All she wanted to do was make him be quiet, to stop spouting more lies, to stop hurting her; to make him vanish like her father had vanished, like her best friend and lover had now vanished..._

_She grabbed the gun. Fired once._

_Saw the white turn to red as the phantom vanished._

_Then she was alone._

Once again, she's alone, standing in the darkness, gun in hand, watching the white shape vanish. This time, though, it's on the roof of a museum, she's in police uniform, and it's a heist.

This time, there was no noise. Only both standing in silence, each perhaps waiting for the other to say something, anything, if there's anything left to be said. Frozen in the darkness; her with the gun raised, he with the jewel, until the sound of further officers reaching the roof brings them back to life.

But tears still stand in her eyes.

In the darkness, nobody notices the lone drops that fall from the sky.

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Minori had never really wondered about her father. Whenever she asked her mother, she told Minori that she didn't have one. At four years old, this made sense enough to Minori. She always seemed to have less of relatives than the other kids anyway. A lot had siblings, brothers and sisters, but Minori didn't. Most had more grandparents too, as many as four, but Minori only had one. So by her logic, having less parents wasn't surprising. She just didn't ask, because her mother would always say that she didn't have one and change the conversation.

It seemed to make her grandma sad, though. Minori often stayed at her grandma's when her mother was out working at night, which she often had to do because of the Case. When Minori was a baby, she and her mother had travelled a lot for the Case, but for whatever reason, now that Minori was nearly five it stopped in Japan. Minori thought that this was nice since she could go to school without being separated from her mother. Her mother had gotten a funny look on her face when she'd said that, then turned away, muttering that there was nothing nice about it. Her grandma had just smiled sadly. She was often sad.

Minori always watched her mother's work on TV. It was always on TV because it was very interesting, like a show. Her grandma was happy to let her watch it because even though the police were chasing a criminal, it wasn't a violent or dangerous one. It was a magician. Minori had often wondered why her mother was so set on catching a magician, but her mother had said that he was a thief and a liar and a- she had stopped there, so Minori hadn't known what else he was, but she knew that stealing was bad, and so was lying, so whatever else it was must have been bad too. Her grandma once said that the magical thief had hurt her mother very badly, which upset Minori. She had resolved not to like the thief when she had heard that, but when she was watching his heists on TV, she couldn't help but be enthralled. She just found magic _fascinating_, but she wouldn't tell her mother because she hated the thief who used magic.

Minori had learned a few magic tricks, though. She'd gotten lost once and ended up at a clock tower. She was sitting on the pavement out front, wondering how to find her way home, when somebody had sat down next to here, a kind ojisan in a baseball cap. He'd cheered her up by showing her a couple of magic tricks, and when she'd asked how to do them, he'd shown her. He'd given her a little rose to practice with, then walked off. She'd chased after him, wondering who he was and wanting to thank him, but then she lost track of him. When she looked around, she'd realized that she'd lost track of him in front of the apartment block where she lived with her mother. He'd led her home.

She'd practiced the few tricks a lot, in secret. She'd never shown her mother, but she'd shown her grandma once, and she'd smiled. Minami-obaachan often just smiled. And so often, it was sad.

Then one day, when left alone by an incautious grandmother who had underestimated the curiosity of her granddaughter, Nakamori Minori opened her grandmother's wardrobe and found a photo album. A photo album full of pictures of a man...

And her mother.


	4. Two Bites

_**Working Title:**_ Two Bites

_**Themes: **_Supernatural, werewolves and vampires

_**Notes**_: Debated whether to make this something of a Twilight crossover and make the Syndicate the Volturi or not XD nahh, given the rules I'm using for werewolves and vampires, probably not. Still, AU in the sense that vampires and werewolves exist here XD

Kaito winced as his card gun was shot out of his hand. He rolled to avoid the second and third bullets, hissing in pain as the fourth grazed his arm. He timed the dodges of the fifth and sixth bullets to bring himself closer to Snake, though one had a close call, burning past his cheek.

"_That was close,_" he thought, his Poker Face unmoved, stepping back as the seventh hit the ground where his foot had been, and executing a very jammy roll under the eighth. "_Still, he's out of bullets now..._"

Sure enough, Snake was backing away, pulling a magazine out of his pocket. Kaito didn't give him the chance, swinging out a kick instead that knocked the gun out of his hand. Snake punched Kaito in the jaw. He shook it off, though with some difficulty- "_He packs a hell of a punch_"- as hand-to-hand fighting ensued, a first between the two. It was dirty. It was exhausting. But Snake wasn't tiring as fast as Kaito, though Kaito could swear that he was landing more blows. Snake was stronger and faster. Kaito found himself wondering what was taking the cops so long to check the roof for him.

He ducked under a punch, slipping behind Snake and catching him in an improvised mix of a headlock and an armlock, but the bastard bit down on Kaito's arm, hard enough to reach the bone. Kaito flinched momentarily in pain, but that moment was all Snake needed to slip out of his grasp like- well, like a snake- and thrust a powerful knee into his gut. Kaito sank to his knees, winded and suddenly weak, his white sleeve rapidly dying red. Snake snatched up his gun and slammed the magazine into it.

"Now I really do have to kill you," he growled...

... just as about fifty police officers burst out of the roof access door, led by Nakamori-keibu, revolver aloft.

"Who the hell are you?!" he yelled, firing a warning shot at Snake. He backed away, firing at Kaito, who forced himself to his feet to dodge out of the way, but he was slower, and one bullet buried into his right shoulder. Nakamori-keibu and several of the officers began firing on Snake in earnest, so Kaito took advantage of their distraction to slip through the fire door. He stumbled downstairs, feeling horribly weak, pain shooting from his injured right shoulder and arm. He glanced back and saw a couple of cops chasing him. He threw back a smokebomb, forcing through the first door he found as he did so, tearing off the suit of the Kaitou Kid and donning the jeans and T-shirt of Kuroba Kaito.

It was a bathroom. Kaito collapsed in the first cubicle, panting in pain and exhaustion. What was happening? He felt so weak...

"Next time you want to knock someone out and hide them in a bathroom, best not to make that bathroom your bolt-hole," Hakuba said with a yawn as he pushed open the cubicle door. "Now give me my clothes back..." his eyes lost all traces of sleepiness as he focused on Kaito. "Kuroba? What the hell's happened to you?"

Kaito could barely sit up straight, let alone run, slowly crumpling as sweat poured from his forehead and his very skin felt as though it were on fire, even though his bones were made of ice...

"Burns..." he croaked weakly, but he didn't have the strength to explain, his vision was fading...

He vaguely registered that Hakuba was digging around in his bag, talking to someone, but he could tell who or what he was saying. He could barely understand anything, lost as he was in a world that was sometimes fire and sometimes ice, but always pain. He uncurled as someone put an arm under his shoulders, forcing him to his feet.

"Move, you idiot," he faintly heard Hakuba's voice say. He clutched at his injured shoulder, propped up on Hakuba's, and forced his feet to move. It took all of his strength to put one foot in front of the other, supported and steered by Hakuba, and even then he was gasping for air. He couldn't tell where he was going or if there was anyone else around. He could tell anything anymore. All he knew was pain.

He was barely lifting his feet any more, being primarily dragged by Hakuba, when Hakuba let go and he collapsed onto something cool and soft yet firm. A car seat. He lay there, barely able to move beyond near-convulsive shivering, only vaguely registering a tug as someone clipped a seatbelt over him. Then he gave up conscious thought entirely, falling into fire and ice and pain.

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"Third case in a week?!" Heiji said incredulously.

"That's right," Otaki confirmed with a nod. "_Something's_ going on. Violent break-ins, the neighbours hear screams and fighting and... _howls_, apparently... but then once it all goes quiet, the victim vanishes and the perp is seen leaving with his dog."

"Always the perp and a dog seen?" Heiji asked.

"All of the witnesses have given similar accounts of the people they've seen leaving," Otaki said. "Male, late thirties to early forties, short hair, burly physique, large dog. We often find blood traces in the houses, so it could mean that the perp is using the dog to attack people- we've found dog hair too. What we've never found is any trace of the perp himself, nor any indication of what happened to the victims thereafter. There's five now, all officially missing."

"Any links?" Heiji asked curiously, peering over the yellow tape to the site of the latest attack.

"The only one we've found is that they were all subscribed to a major magic and mythos fangroup," Otaki said. "Full paid premium memberships- these people genuinely believe in magic and witchcraft and so on, all that western monster mythology. Two of them, before vanishing, had been heard to insist that their colleagues had been forcibly drafted into a werewolf pack."

"Uh-huh," Heiji snorted. "Was there any kinda incident in th' group? Any kinda enemy group or anythin'?"

"We're still investigating," Otaki sighed. "I'm going over to talk to another member of the group, a Nakamura-han."

"Mind if I come with?" Heiji asked.

"I'm sure it won't be a problem so long as you remember the garlic," Otaki joked.

"That's vampires, Otaki-han."

"Forgive my ignorance, I've never worked a beat with Buffy before."

"Still vampires."

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"I see," Saguru said. "Arigato." He snapped his phone shut with a sigh. The gunman had escaped; cornered by the police, he had jumped off of the roof, and though it was hard to tell due to the darkness and the amount of black he was wearing, he seemed to have escaped using a similar hanglider gimmick to that which Kuroba used.

Kuroba himself was lying in one of the Hakuba mansion guest rooms. Saguru hadn't been able to think of anything better to do with the idiot- it just seemed so _wrong_ to hand him in while he was so deathly ill. What precisely the illness was, Saguru couldn't tell; he kept muttering in his sleep, sweating and shivering, his right arm convulsing. Saguru had just had Baaya help him patch Kuroba up then left him. He had been slowly calming as the night wore on, however; the Kid heist had been in the early evening, for once, so it wasn't even midnight yet.

Yawning, Saguru decided to turn in himself, given that Kuroba probably wouldn't die during a few hours' sleep. In fact, the teen thief's sleep was slowly becoming more peaceful, and while he was still sweating and shivering, it wasn't as bad and the convulsions had stopped. He was still deathly pale, though that was probably just from blood loss. Passing by the guest room on the way to his own, Saguru gingerly lifted the bandages on Kuroba's shoulder, checking to see if the wound had stopped bleeding.

The wound was gone.

Saguru stared from the blood-soaked bandages to the unblemished shoulder. He pulled the bandage from Kuroba's cheek to find that the bullet scar there was gone as well. He unwrapped the bandages, but Kuroba was uninjured. More than that- the other scars, the older injuries that Saguru had seen when wrapping Kuroba's shoulder, were gone. All of them. Kuroba was completely healed.

Only the scar on his arm remained, a vivid red bite mark on Kuroba's otherwise pale white skin.

"What the hell?" Saguru muttered.

"Is that what I think it is?" Akako said from half an inch behind him.

"When did you get in here?!" Saguru yelped in surprise. She ignored him.

"Kuroba..." she said thoughtfully. "He just might be..."

The clock struck midnight, and Kuroba's eyes flashed open.

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"I'm telling you, I'm next!" the woman pleaded. "Please, there must be going on- some kind of war for which they need a larger pack! They're coming for us because we know about them and could recognize the signs!"

"I see," Otaki said warily. "Has your group any enemies in the_ human_ world?"

"_Nutter_," Heiji thought uncharitably as he wandered out of the house. It was getting late; the moon was already into the sky. It seemed to be a wild-goose chase.

"_Maybe there's somethin' she's hidin',_" he thought, strolling out into the street. "_Somethin' illegal they got up ta that she don't wanna share with th' police..._"

He was just strapping on his motorbike helmet, ready to leave, when he heard something shuffling in the leaves of a bush at the edge of the park across the street. Curious, he pushed the bush aside, wondering if there was some kind of animal in it.

A huge dog leapt out of it, bearing down on him, teeth aimed at Heiji's throat. Heiji brought his head down so that the animal's teeth connected with the helmet, trying to push it off of himself. He pushed in up, but it forced its way down again, sinking its teeth into Heiji's left forearm. He screamed in pain, hot waves of pain shooting from the wound.

"_Shit!_"

"_Who... said that...?_" Heiji wondered dazedly, trying to jerk his arm out of the dog's mouth.

"Hei-chan!"

_Bang-bang-bang_

The dog yelped in pain as three bullets hit it. It jumped away from Heiji, running as Otaki let loose more shots at it.

"Hei-chan, are you all right?" Otaki asked fearfully, kneeling next to Heiji as he sat up, pulling his helmet off and gasping for air.

"Y-yeah, I'm all right," he said shakily, clutching his arm. "It ain't that deep, it ain't bad..."

"You can't bike home with an arm like that," Otaki said, concerned.

"It really ain't that bad," Heiji insisted, tearing off the tail of his shirt and wrapping it around his arm to staunch the bleeding. "I feel fine." And he really did; he felt a little feverish, maybe, occasional shots of pain from the arm, but otherwise he felt great. "I'll walk it."

"Are you sure you don't want to go to hospital, Hei-chan?" Otaki said.

"I'm _fine_," Heiji insisted, getting up and grabbing the handlebars of his bike. His left arm hurt when he pushed with it, but luckily he didn't need to put a lot of strength into it, as his right arm seemed to be enough to push it for the most part.

"I'll drive alongside you," Otaki said sternly. "In case that thing comes back. I'll put a call out saying that the perp definitely has some kind of trained attack dog."

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Kuroba's eyes weren't their normal dark blue. They were bright, violent red, a deeper crimson than Akako's.

"What the..." he muttered, wiping sweat from his head. It wasn't just his eyes; his skin really was pale white, and his movements, already fast and fluid, seemed to have sped up even more. He glanced over at Saguru and Akako, his nose twitching. "Hakuba? Koizumi? What happened?" He suddenly closed his eyes tightly shut, taking a deep breath, as if steeling himself.

Akako's hand shot out, grabbing his right arm, her black fingernails tracing over the red scars on his pale flesh. "Kuroba-kun... you were bitten by a blood hunter."

"A-?!" Kuroba stared at Akako. "Okay, wait, are you saying what I think you're saying? Is she..." he'd looked over to talk to Saguru, but then his nose wrinkled and he gave that odd flinch again, breathing heavily. "Oh, Kami..."

"Kuroba?" Saguru said, stepping forwards, but Akako's hand shot out to stop him as Kuroba's pale fists clenched.

"You might want to back away from him, Hakuba-kun," she said quietly.

"I'm _starving_," Kuroba moaned. "_Dammit..._"

"And you, Hakuba-kun, with all your warm, human blood, no doubt smell _very_ appetizing," Akako said coolly.

"What about _you_?" Saguru asked, half-consciously ignoring the more inviting question.

"No offence, Koizumi, but you _stink_," Kuroba muttered. "You don't even smell _human_, let alone..." his fists loosened and clenched again as he fought the hunger.

"Now do you believe me, Kuroba-kun?" Akako said sharply. "You're..."

"I know," Kuroba sighed, those unsettling red eyes flashing open again. "I'm a vampire."

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"Thanks again for the dinner, obachan," Kazuha said cheerily, handing her plate over to Shizuka.

"No problem, Kazuha-chan," Shizuka said warmly. "It's nice to have you over for dinner."

"Why _did_ ya come over?" Heiji asked, handing his plate in.

"I heard ya were checkin' up on that case where the mystics were vanishin'," Kazuha explained. "It's makin' me kinda nervous since I follow the group too, an' their studies and stories, though I ain't a paid-up premium member... they're the ones that go on the expeditions, travellin' ta find proof of the monsters they believe in. They went on a trip ta Scotland ta find the Loch Ness Monster last year."

"Seriously?" Heiji said curiously. "_Maybe somethin' happened on one a' those trips..._"

"I heard ya got bit, too," Kazuha said with concern, glancing at his arm.

"Jus' the perp's attack puppy," Heiji snorted. "Fled with its tail between its legs when Otaki-han let of a couple shots at it. It ain't nothin'."

"It certainly hasn't affected your appetite," Heizo said with amusement, referring to how much Heiji had stuffed himself throughout the meal.

"Yeah, let _us_ have some of the food, why dont'cha?" Kazuha snorted, getting up. "I'd better find my bag and head fer home soon, anyways..." she rooted around for her bag. It being a warm summer night, they had been eating with the back porch doors open, and Kazuha cursed as she realized that her bag had fallen off the back step.

"There it is," she said, bending down to pick it up. "All right, I found... it..." she trailed off suddenly, with a fearful gasp. Heiji, who had been about to follow his parents to the kitchen, glanced back at her. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Kazuha was standing stock still on the bottom step, shaking slightly, staring across the yard to where a huge dog with a shaggy, light-brown coat was walking slowly towards her, growled quietly. It was the dog that had attacked Heiji earlier that evening.

"_Move,_" it snarled.

"_What th... did it just speak?_" Heiji wondered. Kazuha didn't react to the snarling. Slowly, Heiji stepped towards her, trying not to startle the dog.

It did no good. The animal's head snapped up and it snarled as it suddenly leapt forwards, running towards Kazuha, teeth bared. Heiji ran desperately towards her, feeling fear and rage pour into his veins, _Kami, no, don't let it hurt her, not her, please, not her..._

"No!" Heiji roared as the wolf leapt, Kazuha screaming, cloth ripping as something hot shot through him, hot and strong...

Heiji slammed into the other wolf in midair, his fangs at its throat, his powerful hind paws launching him into the fray.


	5. A Magical World

_**Working Title:**_ A Magical World (yes I know it's rubbish. Suggestions for a better title VERY WELCOME)

_**Themes: **_magic, Harry Potter, growing up, romance, angst

_**Notes**_: I really don't know where this came from… AU, Shinichi and co are off to Hogwarts, making some interesting new friends and dealing with some very strange magic in later years… given the kids' ages, set about seventeen years after the seventh book. Possibly splitting into seven fics.

Shinichi glanced around the bustling station nervously. He exchanged glances with his father, indicating that they were both expecting one of his mother's actor friends to suddenly appear and explain that it had all been an elaborate prank. After all, where on _earth_ was…_?_

"… platform nine, look, and platform ten… where the hell's platform _nine and three-quarters?_"

Shinichi glanced around at the fragment of conversation. It seemed to have come from an arguing couple who were pushing two carts, overloaded like Shinichi's with trunks, backpacks, and a cage containing a snowy owl, another containing a sleek tabby cat. Following them were two girls about Shinichi's age, who looked almost identical save that one had shorter, lighter hair than the other.

"Excuse me," Yuusaku said, wheeling Shinichi's trolley over, laden with his trunk, backpack and tawny owl Sherlock, "but are you looking for… erm, Hogwarts?"

"Load of bloody rubbish," the other man snorted. He had a small moustache and a cigarette between his lips.

"I _told_ you I wasn't pranking you!" Yukiko said. The four parents started arguing and discussing how to get onto the platform. Shinichi, bored, wandered over to say Hi to the girls.

"I'm Shinichi Kudo," he said. "Are you both going?"

"Yeah," the girl with the longer, darker hair said. Shinichi thought she looked prettier. "I'm Ran Mori and this is my cousin Aoko Nakamori… we both got picked to go!"

"Which is good, 'cause I wouldn't want to leave Ran behind," Aoko said.

"I wouldn't want to leave you behind either," Ran giggled.

"My daddy travels a lot as a police officer," Aoko explained, "and my mommy's dead, but her sister's Ran's mommy, so we're cousins, and I've lived with them since I was a baby… Ran and I are best friends forever!"

"Nice to meet you," Shinichi said politely. "I can't really believe it… magic and stuff…"

"I know, it's weird that it's all actually _real_," Aoko giggled.

"You're all going too?"

The three children jumped as a boy suddenly appeared half an inch behind the girls. Then they all stared at him. He looked identical to Ran.

"Kaito, don't do that in public…" a woman, presumably his mother, scolded, scurrying over with another overloaded cart. This one had a cage containing several white doves rather than an owl.

"It's all right, they're going too!" Kaito said happily, his face morphing and changing into one that resembled Shinichi's.

"_Wow,_" Aoko gasped, watching the boy's face change. "How do you do that? Is it a spell?"

"There's spells, but they're _real hard_," Kaito said pompously. "I'm a special kind of wizard, though. I'm a morphmagus like my dad!" to their looks of incomprehension, he added, "that means I can change my face to anything I like. Are you all muggles?" further blank looks, also from the parents who had stopped talking to listen in on their children's conversation.

"Non-magical people," his mother explained. "Are you? You look a little lost, do you not know how to get onto the platform?"

"I'm afraid not," Yuusaku said politely. "Where…?"

"It's right there!" Kaito said, waving at the brick barrier between platforms nine and ten. "Can I show them, mom? Please?"

"You'd better, Kaito," his mother said. "I'll come with the trolley once they're all through, so you _wait _on the other side, understand?"

"Brilliant!" Kaito said with a manic grin, running headfirst towards the barrier. "Watch this! Dad told me all about it!"

"Hey, slow down before you-" Yuusaku began, but trailed off as Kaito didn't run into the barrier, but ran _through_ it.

"What the…" Ran gasped in surprise.

"He didn't _splat_!" Aoko observed.

"Be nonchalant about it if you can," the woman said. "Don't want the muggles staring… I'm Minami Kuroba, by the way. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yuusaku Kudo, and my wife Yukiko, and our son Shinichi," Yuusaku said as Shinichi and the girls wandered curiously over to the barrier.

"Kogoro Mori, this is Eri, our daughter Ran and my niece Aoko. You're not _seriously_ saying that you-Ran!" But he went unheard; Ran had boldly strolled straight through the barrier, dragging her cousin by the hand. Shinichi, not to be outdone by a pair of _girls_, scurried after them. He closed his eyes when he approached the barrier, expecting to feel like he had when he'd missed a header and busted his nose; but there was no sensation to it at all, merely a sudden wash of sound and smoke as a platform appeared before him, teeming with children and teenagers and parents and overloaded carts and _noise_.

Not far away, a tall teenage boy whose face was obscured by that of the strawberry-blonde that he was entwined with suddenly broke apart from her and ran yelling and snarling- actually _snarling_- after two boys, one with dark hair and the other ginger, who looked about Shinichi's age. Laughing and whooping, they ran half an inch past Shinichi, who dodged the older boy a moment later. Children were running about everywhere, hooking up with friends, trading strange things, chasing runaway pets of all varieties.

"Wow…" he whispered, eyes wide. He'd never seen anything like it in his eleven years. He'd never even imagined that such a place could be possible.

"Shinichi, Shinichi!" Kaito cried bouncily, his hair now excitedly flashing different colours. "Over here!" He was standing not far away with the girls, expectantly watching the barrier. A moment later, his nervous-looking parents appeared, faces still bearing inadvertent winces as they passed through the barrier. They were shortly followed by Ran's similarly terrified-looking parents and Kaito's unruffled mother.

"There you are," she sighed in relief. "Goodness, nothing changes, it's still such a racket here… I was worried I'd lose you…"

"Go put our stuff on the train so's we can find a compartment, all right?" Kaito yelled excitedly. Nothing less than yelling could penetrate the din on the platform.

"True, we don't have long…" she said, quickly pushing the luggage cart down to the end of the train. Shinichi and Ran's parents followed, the children following Kaito, who kept up a constant chatter.

"… first they put you in a House, an' that decides where you sleep and your timetable and what table you eat at and what Quidditch team you play on if you want…"

"Quidditch?" Shinichi said curiously. He had never come across the term, but it sounded like a sport.

"Oh, it's great, but I don't think you can join in first year, which _sucks_! See, there's seven people on a team, and they all fly on broomsticks, and…" he immediately embarked on a long-winded explanation. Ran and Aoko, behind the engrossed boys, exchanged a look and eyeroll universal to women of all ages: _men and sports._

"Is there a certain carriage we've gotta get into?" Aoko asked nervously.

"Don't think so, but lotsa the ones back here are empty, look," Kaito said, indicating the empty windows.

"There's a special carriage for the prefects at the front," his mother explained gently, "but the rest of you can sit wherever you want. Back here will probably be fine."

"Oh, my baby, going away from home…" Yukiko said tearfully, leaning down to hug her son tightly in an inescapable Mother Hug. She finally broke away, snivelling into a handkerchief. Behind her, Shinichi could see that not only was Eri in a similar state, but Ran and Aoko too. Why did girls _cry_ so much?

"Be careful, all right, son?" Yuusaku said, crouching down to look his still diminutive son in the eye. "Listen carefully to the rules and stick with them. Listen to your teachers and prefects. It looks like you've found some good friends already so stick with them for now- especially that Kaito, he may be hyper but he seems to know what he's doing. But get to know people, make some more friends, all right? This seems like a really special opportunity, so I want you to be happy in it."

"I think I will, it's really cool…" Shinichi said, looking around at Kaito, who for once was silent as his mother also advised him. "But… I'm going to miss you and mom."

"We'll write every week," he promised. "So long as you write back. I'll send you the football scores, I don't know if they'll have them there. We'll see you soon enough anyway, at the Christmas holidays, all right?"

"Okay…" Shinichi said, giving his father a brief hug.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Kaito yelled, having suddenly teleported onto the train. "It's gonna _go_!" his point was emphasized by the high shrill of the train's whistle cutting through the uproar, which was now liberally laced with tears.

"See you at Christmas!" Shinichi hollered, running up into the train next to Kaito, desperate not to miss it. Ran, also tearful, was nevertheless determinedly dragging her cousin onto the train, who seemed almost incapacitated by lonely sobbing.

"It'll be all right," Ran promised. "We'll see them again at Christmas…"

"And we'll have tons of fun until then, just you wait and see!" Kaito said happily, bouncing in his seat and waving madly at his mother, who looked lonely out in the platform, standing a little apart from the rest of the parents, waving and calling goodbyes to their children as the train slowly jerked forwards. Shinichi waved at his parents too, watching them carefully until they were swallowed by the smoke on the platform. Ran and Aoko did likewise, both left teary again for it.

"Cheer up," Kaito said, producing a couple of handkerchiefs and handing them to the girls. "We're going to _Hogwarts_!"


	6. Twenty TwentyFour

_**Working Title:**_ Twenty Twenty-four

_**Themes: **_dystopia, politics, revolution, angst, death

_**Notes**_: I never thought I'd get a plunnie out of a dissertation about patterns of rejection and compliance in the central characters of futuristic dystopias. Proves me wrong. Anyway, set fifteen years into the future, where the Black Organization grew powerful enough to carry out a political coup and take control of Japan, a la _The Handmaid's Tale_, _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ and _V for Vendetta_. But what's a totalitarian dictatorship without an underground rebellion… (still trying to decide whether to make this a continuation, set fifteen years into the future, or an AU set in the present where the Black Org were in control from the start…)

"_In more solemn news, the death toll in Australia is now two thousand, with thousands more in hospital. The source of the mysterious disease is unknown, though pesticides used on crops and chemical pollution are being blamed. No cure has yet been discovered, though government scientists-_"

"Shut up," Hondo Eisuke muttered, having finally located the remote and silenced the vacuous news report. He'd seen far, far too much of that case recently, far more than the government was allowing the news to even sniff at.

Well, if this mission was successful, the media would have a field day. Death, corruption, a totalitarian state to morally rip to shreds. They hadn't been able to do that since China went democratic in 2016.

Eisuke went through his room, fingerprint sensors opening all the locked drawers and proffering various toys. Fake IDs, a small white noise generator, minicams, stun guns, real guns with good old-fashioned bullets, smaller than the palm of his hand, all secreted into little pockets throughout his vest (bulletproof), shirt and trousers. The amount of firepower he was hiding on himself now was enough to outgun a tank twenty years ago. And, crucially, the metal detector scrambler. Even now, bullets still needed metal. And he was going to need bullets.

His watch beeped, reminding him that his ride would be here in five minutes. He went through the apartment, locking the rooms with palmprint sensors by the doorways, until he was standing in the living room with only the front door left. Palmprint locks were getting to be pretty common technology, though not everybody could afford them yet, but like all new developments criminals had adapted. All that could be said about the advent of technological security was that it made considerably more intelligent criminals. They were the last thing Eisuke wanted to deal with, even though he was about to earn his pay by doing so, which was why _his_ locks were government-issue and made from technology that wouldn't see the public sector for twenty years. If you have invented a brilliant piece of technology, always give the inferior version to the public and keep the best for yourself.

He put on his jacket, sticking several folders into the hidden back pocket as he did so- decoded messages from Japan's Head of Foreign Relations for over the past decade, known only as Kir. The most recent was only a week old, and had been what they were waiting for- the fake IDs. It was dated 27th April, 2024.

For thirteen years, ever since a sudden and, to the world at large, inexplicable change in the political system of Japan, the island had returned to a period of ultimate isolation. Foreigners were deported en masse, and nobody else got into the country, nor did anybody get out. There was no news, TV or internet transmitted in, and none out. The only communication at all was with the Department of Foreign Relations, which had offered sufficient proof that Japan had simply developed self-sufficiency and had retreated into isolation to support resulting social changes. Standard political crap. It was enough to satisfy inspectors that there was no human rights abuses or illegal political practices going on in Japan.

The Black Organization always was good at hiding its true nature.

But now the CIA had what they needed. The time was long past due for the regime to be exposed for what it was. If information concerning the true nature of the Black Organization- the government of Japan, these days- reached the outside world, there would be upheaval. Eisuke's greatest fear was that there would be war, but hopefully sufficient political and military pressure could be exerted without it coming to that. The CIA had to get in, get proof, get out, and get it published.

For that, they didn't just need Kir's secret help. In any totalitarian state, there are "undesirables"- dissidents, ethnic or social groups that the regime disapproves of, and the usual criminals. And some decide that they don't really fancy just sitting down and waiting to get locked up.

Kir's message didn't just have the fake IDs they'd need to move about Japan. It also told them how to contact the Silver Bullet Underground Group. The "Undesirables" of the Black Organization, those in any way involved with law or showing curiosity- lawyers, policemen who'd tried to do their job, criminals who didn't want to do theirs- at least not for the Organization- and detectives.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_**Get underground now. We're going to start bombing the locations that you've given us**__._"

"**What…**" Eisuke's eyes widened in horror. "**No! Hell, no! General…**"

"_**The orders have gone out and the bombers are underway. The order cannot be rescinded**__._"

"**Yes it fucking well can. General, there are innocent people working in those buildings, in the buildings surrounding**-"

"_**Collateral, Agent Hondo. The information you've given us proves that this group is far too dangerous to risk any trace of survival. You and your team are the best of the CIA, agent Hondo, so damn well better get underground right fucking now before you get bombed**__._" The general hung up, leaving Eisuke staring at the phone, his hand shaking in pure horror.

They were going to bomb Tokyo. They were going to bring the goddamn Blitz to Tokyo.

"Get everybody out of here, now!" he yelled, running from the empty fire escape where he'd taken the call to the rooms where the major leaders of the Silver Bullet were gathered, waiting for his news. The Silver Bullet had adopted the Black Organization's tactic of hiding in plain sight, in a building disguised as a decent business, but what they hid was not gas chambers and laboratories but refugees and rebels. On the twentieth floor.

"Hondo, what's-?" Kudo asked, rising to his feet with a concerned expression. Eisuke ran past him to the intercom on the desk, pressing the button to link it to the rest of the building.

"The USAF are about to bomb Tokyo to take out the Black Org!" he yelled. "Get everybody out of the goddamn building and underground right _now_, and if anybody knows if there are any old air raid sirens in the city, now's the time to share!"

"What the hell?!" Kaito yelled angrily, leaping to his feet and running for the window. Hakuba, standing right next to it, almost absentmindedly opened it as Kuroba, without breaking stride, dropped out of it. A few seconds later, a white triangle was visible soaring away.

"He has a megaphone, he'll be yelling for the whole city to hear," Kudo said, shoving everyone for the door, where in the corridor there was chaos as people ran for the stairs. "I don't care if the Black Org hears too, I don't know what the fuck the USA is thinking…"

"The USA _don't _fuckin' think, an' if they used the word "collateral"…" Hattori growled menacingly.

"Ream 'em out later, we gotta get outta here _now_!" Kazuha cried desperately. "Oh Kami, where's Keiji?"

"Fuck," Hattori growled, paling visibly and bolting for the stairs, his wife in tow.

"Let's head out the fire escape, reduce congestion," Ran suggested, running for the fire door. The remaining occupants of the room followed.

The streets were thronging by the time they reached them, Kaito's warnings ringing through the streets, punctuated by occasional gunshots aimed at the thief. People were panicking, fleeing for houses with cellars, or otherwise parks and the river, open places away from buildings. In the chaos, the Black Org would not notice Silver Bullet members- and if they did it wouldn't be for long.

"Where the hell's Hattori?" Kudo yelled desperately, leaning against the wall with his arm around Ran, who was clutching Aoko, to avoid getting separated from her, peering desperately through the terrified hordes for the dark tones of his friend.

"You're going to have to have faith in him to get somewhere safe, because we have to get out of here _now_!" Hakuba yelled, trying to drag Akako along, as she stared glassy-eyed at the sky.

"They're here," she whispered.

A moment later, the first bombs fell.

Eisuke grabbed onto Ran and Aoko, leaning over them with Kudo as the two of them blocked the women from the sudden surge in the crowd as explosions tore up Shibuya. Fireballs washed down alleys and into the streets, the screams of fear mingling with screams of agony as the unlucky burned. People pushed desperately away from the devastation, herded by the falling bombs as they tore up the city around them. The gunshots had stopped, as had Kaito's warnings; the hanglider had vanished, with any luck out of the line of fire. There was a horrible rumbling noise as bombed chunks of buildings began to fall.

"We need to move and get out of here, if the buildings fall-!" Aoko screamed, less out of fear than simply due to the fact that it was the only way to be heard. The panicked hordes were thinning, at least where they were, but Eisuke knew that if they ran they'd soon run into a wall of humanity trying to fight its way through. He glanced over his shoulder, and it took all of his training not to retch at the sight of the twisted and maimed bodies in the road, not bomb casualties but simply those who had fallen and been trampled or run over. Hot ash was beginning to fall.

"These buildings are built to stand earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanic eruptions," Kudo yelled back. "Chunks might go off them but they won't fall…"

"Fuck," Eisuke gasped, remembering one development in weapons technology that Kudo, trapped in Japan's isolation, would be unaware of. He pulled Aoko and Ran to their feet and tried to drag them into a run.

A minute later, there was a _thump_ that was felt rather than heard, because it wiped out all sound. They collapsed, screaming, as they were wracked with a sensation like a hammer forcing its way between every cell in their bodies. _A sonic bomb_.

These things created shockwaves on a molecular level. Organic cell structures were just flexible enough to resist it without falling apart. Buildings, however…

Dust and stones rained down on them as the buildings collapsed- _disintegrated_. All Eisuke could do was shield the first body he could reach, before something struck him hard, nearly knocking him flat and forcing his muscles to lock as he tried not to pass out or collapse as the weight built upon him.

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_The first bit's from the beginning, the second will probably happen near the climax. They were the first scenes to pop into my head so they're what I'm putting up. Comment with your thoughts as usual._

_Oh, and the sonic bombs work on approximately similar physics to the decoherence rifles in Christopher Brookmyre's _Pandaemonium_, the physics for which are apparently sound, in case anybody's picky. My friend is. Damn him and his Physics Higher._


	7. Sugar, Spice And A Whole Lotta Fight

_**Working Title:**_ Sugar, Spice And A Whole Lotta Fight

_**Themes: **_feminism, comfort, love

_**Notes**_: I was thinking the other day; there are endless fics on the Gosho Boys (Shinichi, Kaito, Heiji, Saguru). Where are the fics on the Gosho Girls? None of the boys I know can ever get anything right, and the Gosho Boys should be no exception. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, and a woman will easily do what he can't…

This situation was so wrong in- he paused to take a quick tally- seventeen different ways. Saguru ducked down behind the overturned desk as another round of gunfire rang out, firing a single, precise shot at the first man to come through the office door. He cursed and ducked back at the fleshy _crack_ of a bullet meeting handbones. In the moment of peace, Saguru flipped open the stolen revolver, meeting the unpleasant sight of two spare rounds.

"Hattori, how many shots do you have left?" he demanded.

"None," the Osakan grunted, breathing heavily as he clutched at the vivid red stains spreading from his right shoulder and arm. "I dropped th' damn thing when they shot me. Dammit."

Eighteen.

"Kuroba, you have everything hidden in that suit somewhere," Saguru said, gesturing to the white Kid suit now so heavily stained with Kudo's blood that Saguru couldn't tell if Kuroba was injured at all. The damaged detective in question lay silent, still asleep from Kuroba's sleep gas. They really should have kept him awake, given how much blood he was losing, but thanks to Gin's vendetta he had been allowed no anaesthetic and must have been incredible pain when they found him. Hopefully he would awaken in hospital. "Tell me you have some bullets somewhere."

"I can offer you playing cards and exploding dice, neither of which that gun is adapted for," Kuroba said. Nineteen. "And they broke my gun, thank you. I'd just blitz the place with sleeping gas if it weren't for the fact that I can't carry all three of you out of here, even though it's a ground floor so I wouldn't have to stress the hanglider."

Twenty.

"Dontcha got any gas masks?" Hattori grunted, peering over the desk and shrinking back from another shot.

"Nope," Kuroba muttered, throwing a six at the doorway, which exploded. "I've spent so much time around the stuff that you'd need enough to kill an elephant just to make me drowsy. I don't need a mask, so I don't carry one."

It was official. They were unequivocally screwed.

"Dammit!" Hattori growled angrily. "What the fuck?! How did this happen?!"

"You could do it anyway and get Kudo out of here," Saguru said, trying to think as he watched for somebody to step into the doorway for a clear shot. "He needs hospitalization, now. If we cover ourselves, don't breathe too much of it, we might wake up before them…"

"I'm not gambling your lives on that," Kuroba argued. His head snapped up as a siren went off in the building. "What the hell? Bit late for that, isn't it? Not like we're a damn threat at this point…"

"I don't think that's us." There was shouting in the halls, and Saguru could hear several sets of footsteps running down the hall, away from them. That meant there were two- maybe three, at most- left besieging them. He'd have to hope it was two- if he could take them both out he could grab their guns. But what was so dangerous that they were abandoning them to fight it? Granted, pinned down as they were, they weren't that dangerous, but…

There was yelling and gunfire down the hall, and… an engine revving? Hattori glanced at Saguru.

"Sounds like a coupla bikes," he said, sounding a little bemused. "Harleys, I think. Who the hell's drivin' Harleys through the halls?"

"I don't really give a damn, so long as they can distract them long enough to get us outta here…" Kuroba muttered. They peered over the desk. One of the men was standing in the doorway, having apparently forgotten about them given that he was in full view of them, hastily packing a new magazine into his gun in clear panic. Saguru shot at him, hitting him in the neck. The man went down gurgling. When it's killed or be killed along with your friends, even detectives have to cross that line.

Running over to the now abandoned door, they too dropped their guards to stare in shock at what was coming through the foyer and down the corridor towards them.

They could distantly see the foyer. The glass doors were shattered, the façade of a respectable business only twenty feet from the holding cells and operating theatres and labs destroyed, glass spread across the ground and pushed aside in strips where the wheels of the motorcycles had come through.

The two machines in question were bearing down on several operatives who were trying to block them, looking no less menacing for the red sidecars. They weren't getting any shots off- they had to quickly dodge before they were run down. One struggled to his feet, raising his gun, but the leading motorcycle reached him and a lithe figure leapt from the sidecar, propelling its foot straight into his face with a very audible _crack_. The faces and builds were hidden beneath black helmets and chunky bulletproof vests, but there were four of them, and they were clearly not friends of the Shadow Syndicate. The bikes skidded around, halting two feet from the boys, blocking them from the ensuing carnage in the corridor as the other three figures dismounted and joined their comrade in laying the operatives to waste before they could raise their guns. One had a pair of handguns, which they used to knock guns from the men's hands with stunning accuracy, one was swinging a length of lead pipe, and two were simply breaking anything they could get their hands on.

"What the hell…?" Heiji muttered in shock, staring at their saviours. Saguru nodded in agreement, then howled in pain as bullets suddenly tore into his back, cracking into his ribs and tearing his guts with enough force to throw him over, knocking over Hattori. He could hear Kuroba yell in pain as well.

Dammit. There were more operatives deeper into the base.

Saguru gasped for air, difficult because he could feel a tear in his lung. The room was spinning, but he could make out the dark blurs that leapt over them, and distantly heard the distinct _crack_ of breaking bones. He was rolled onto his back by Hattori, who was ranting at him not to fuckin' well die before he, Hattori Heiji, could beat 'im atta tantei-koshien. The sounds of fighting stopped, and Saguru felt himself being lifted.

"Can you hold onto me?"

Saguru stared at the faceless saviour with the familiar voice. He tried to raise his arms, but gasped in pain as the motion tugged at his wounds.

"Kaito's hanglider mechanism protected him from worse damage, he and Hattori-kun can go on the backs of the bikes," another familiar voice said. Saguru was lowered into a sidecar seat, where one of the figures crouched before him, removing a glove to reveal a hand with long black nails, which was placed on his forehead. Somehow, this calmed the pain and allowed him to focus enough to see beyond them, where Kudo was being lifted into the other sidecar, while one of the figures pulled up the visor on their helmet to glare at Hattori with furious emerald eyes.

"You are ina _million_ kinds a' trouble when we getcha outta here," she growled. "Macho aho."

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_This is going to happen quite a ways into the fic, but since it's one of the first scenes that came to me I'm putting it up here. Significantly more damage coming to the boys here… Yeah, both of these new ones are just bundles of joy, aren't they? XD_


End file.
